Knight of Passion
by Luv2rite
Summary: A lady in disguise, a stolen kiss, a vicious suitor… For more read inside..
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys it's me! This is a new story I am writing. So please tell me if I should continue this story or not. Thanks!

This story is a historical story set in the times of Ladys and Sirs. This story is AU. So forget the Jason Morgan and Elizabeth Webber that you now know.

Summary:

Sir Jason Morgan shares a passionate kiss with a pretty village wench, only to discover the young woman is a lady, and the promised bride of another man. When Jason learns the prospective groom is no gentleman, he vows to protect the lady, even if it costs him his life.

LadyElizabeth deWebber was content with her betrothal until a Welsh knight taught her the meaning of passion. But she dare not break her word and dishonor her vow. The repercussions could be fatal— for herself, her family and the man with whom she's fast falling in love.

Knight Of Passion

Sir Jason Morgan smiled to himself as he watched the comely wench laughing among the crowd gathered around the bonfire. She was obviously enjoying the antics of the jugglers and tumblers illuminated by the flickering light. The performers had likely come to entertain in the hall of Webber Castle during the celebration of the marriage of Lord Webber's daughter that was due to take place in less than a fortnight, just as Jason had come to participate in the tournament Lord Webber was hosting as part of the nuptial festivities.

Jason had seen many a pretty lass and lady in his travels from Wales to the king's court, but few caught his eye as this one did. She had fine features and full lips that fairly begged to be kissed. Her curling honey-colored hair hung loose about her slender shoulders, and he could easily discern her shapely form beneath the loose-fitting, simple gown and girdle she wore.

But it wasn't just her face and figure that caught his eye. It was the dimples caused by her merry smile, and the look of bright intelligence in her eyes as she laughed and clapped.

As a guest of Lord Webber, and a man who prided himself on never taking advantage of his rank, Jason would content himself with watching her from afar. Nevertheless he was glad he'd decided not to go to the castle as soon as he arrived but to stay a night in the village instead.

Not that it was a difficult decision. He didn't relish spending any more time among Norman noblemen than he had to.

"Hey, Rafe, wouldn't you like to have a go with her, eh?"

The sly, drunken whisper caught Jason's ear and he turned to see three youths — squires by their attire — leering at the pretty wench.

"Aye, I would," one answered, and with a low laugh, he started toward her, followed by his friends.

Jason sauntered after them. Too much ale and youthful male vanity could be a dangerous combination.

The wench stopped smiling when she saw the young men headed her way. She turned and disappeared into the gap between two wattle and daub buildings, their second stories overhanging the alley.

The three drunken squires called out for her to stop as they gave chase. From the growing annoyance in their voices, Jason realized the wench could be in serious trouble and quickened his pace, pulling his sword from its scabbard in one smooth, well-practiced motion as he ran. He rounded the corner and saw, in the bright light of the full moon, the young woman backed against the wall of a thatched hut, the three squires facing her in a half circle.

"I don't call that very friendly," the one named Rafe — tall, thin and pockmarked — declared. "We're guests of his lordship and you ought to be more sociable."

"We aren't going to hurt you," a second squire slurred, swaying on his stocky legs. "All we want's a kiss."

"We'll give you a drink if you kiss us," the third one said with a besotted grin.

"I don't want a drink from the likes of you," the wench retorted, her accent, like her dress, that of a peasant. As she spoke, her whole body tensed as if ready to spring at them and defend herself.

No tame, timid lass this, Jason thought with approval as he drew near.

"Didn't you hear her, boys?" he announced behind them. "She doesn't want a drink from the likes of you, and I can't say I blame her. I can smell you from here."

The young men whirled around. They took one look at Jason's broad-shouldered, powerful warrior's body and the sword held loosely in his experienced hands, then tripped and stumbled and fell over themselves in their haste to flee.

When they were gone, Jason looked at the young woman and gave her a smile as he sheathed his sword. "I don't think they'll be bothering you any more tonight."

"No, I don't think they will," she agreed.

She laughed softly, the sound as merry as her smile, and a reward far finer than many he'd received. "Thank you, sir knight. Maybe they didn't mean any real harm, but I'm grateful for your aid just the same."

Warmed by her words, Jason said, "You're most welcome."

_**To be continued...**_

_**I had some more but I decided to stop here and get some feedback before I continue...**_

_**So if you find this story to be interesting and would like me to go please Read & Review**_


	2. Chapter 2

Well it doesn't seem like that many people are interested in this story so I might just take a break and finish my other stories first. But thank you to the people who have reviewed.

Chapter 2

Warmed by her words, Jason said, "You're most welcome."

"You must be here for the tournament, Sir…?"

Even though she'd rightly guessed he was a knight, she spoke with a frankness most unusual, especially from a peasant girl. Usually women either stole shy glances at him and never met his gaze directly, or they regarded him _too_ boldly, with an unmistakable invitation in their eyes, whether they were highborn or low. This young woman did neither. She simply regarded him as she might a friend.

As pleasant as that thought was, he realized he wanted to be considered more than a mere friend.

"I'm Sir Jason Morgan."

"Come a long ways, too, haven't you? From Wales?"

"That's where my home is," he said as he strolled closer.

He came to a halt a few feet from where she leaned back against the hut.

She ran a measuring gaze over him. Far from finding that impertinent, he wondered if she found him as attractive as he found her.

"I haven't seen you at the castle," she noted.

"That's because I haven't actually entered it," he admitted. "Being a Welshman, I'm not particularly fond of the company of Norman nobles, although I understand Lord Webber is a fine fellow."

His smile grew. "Now that you know something about me, I'd like to know the name of the damsel I've assisted."

She immediately stopped looking at him and stared down at her feet. Perhaps she'd suddenly remembered how a peasant was supposed to behave toward a knight, or maybe his admiration had been too obvious and he'd frightened her.

"It's Liz and I ought to be going now," she murmured, giving him a shy smile that made him both relieved and happy even as she sidled away.

"Please allow me to walk with you, in case those drunken louts return."

"No, sir, no, I couldn't let you trouble yourself."

He deftly intercepted her and bowed as he would to the queen. "It would be my honor to ensure that you reach your home safely, Liz."

"No!"

Her retort sounded astonishingly like a command.

As Jason regarded her with surprise, she quickly looked down at her feet again.

"You see, Sir Jason," she continued in a deferential tone, "I'm not supposed to be in the village at all. I wasn't to leave the castle and I'll be in trouble with my mistress if she finds out I did."

She looked up at him with a pleading expression in her beautiful hazel eyes. "You won't tell anyone about this, will you, sir?"

How could he resist that plea? "Don't worry, Liz. Your secret's safe with me."

He couldn't help himself. He reached out to stroke her cheek; it was as soft as he'd guessed it would be. "I give my solemn vow as a knight of the realm."

"You would give a peasant girl such a promise?" she asked in an incredulous whisper.

As her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, it was all he could do not to kiss her. "Aye, I would. You have my solemn vow and pledge that no one will ever know we met here tonight."

Then, to his complete and utter shock, she threw her arms around him and kissed him full on the lips.

Passion and yearning came hard on the heels of his surprise, and he pulled her closer. She responded with fervor and longing, parting her lips and allowing his tongue to slide into the moist warmth of her mouth.

Good God, she was more than merely grateful for his help and surely it wouldn't be taking advantage of her to make love with her when she was so obviously willing.

She broke the kiss. Gasping, she put her hand to her lips, turned and ran off into the darkness.

"Liz!" he called, running after her.

He couldn't find her. He searched the green, the streets, the back alleys, the entire village, but she wasn't there. It was as if she'd vanished into thin air, or he'd dreamed that encounter.

And that astonishing kiss.

To be continued...

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	3. Chapter 3

Even though not a lot of people have reviewed I just want to say thank you to those that have.

Chapter 3

"Where have you been, and looking like that?" the middle-aged Chloe cried, bustling toward her mistress as Elizabeth crept quietly into the bedchamber. "Really, now, my lady, aren't you a little old for dressing like a peasant and making merry in the village? And you getting married in a se'ennight, too."

"I just wanted a little amusement before I wed," Liz replied as she gave her maidservant a contrite smile. "When I'm the wife of Sir Lucas de Spencer and chatelaine of his castle, I won't be able to go out among the villagers and enjoy their simple pleasures anymore. I'll have to act the lady then."

"Aye, that's so — thank God," Chloe said briskly as she poured water into the bronze ewer on the table near the curtained bed. "No more scampering off to climb trees and catch fish and generally get into mischief."

As she went to wash, Liz doubted Chloe would call that kiss she'd given the darkly handsome, well built and chivalrous Sir Jason Morgan _mischief._ A shameful, lustful impulse, she'd say it was, and she'd be right. Liz also knew she should be sorry and ashamed, but she couldn't forget the incredible sensation of Sir Jason's lips moving over hers, arousing such —

"Nobody recognized you?" Chloe asked as Liz reached for her ivory comb beside the bronze basin and ewer.

"I was careful to keep to the shadows."

Chloe shook her head.

"Maybe I ought to be glad you'll be your husband's responsibility soon. I'm not surprised I don't have a blonde hair left on my head, the merry chase you've led me all these years."

Liz hurried to embrace the woman who'd been a mother to her, her own having died giving her life.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Chloe."

"Well, you could have been a lot worse, I suppose," Chloe said, wiping away a tear before continuing to tidy up the large and luxuriously appointed chamber. "But that's because you've been lucky. I hate to think what Sir Lucas might say if he saw you dressed in that peasant's gown and wandering about the village in the middle of the night."

"It wasn't the middle of the night," Liz protested.

As for what her betrothed might think about her visit to the village…it didn't matter, since he hadn't seen her.

She was more worried about what Sir Jason might say or do when he realized the woman he'd rescued from three drunken squires was the daughter of his host, as well as the bride — provided Sir Jason even recognized her when she was dressed in fine silks and satins. She was sure those foolish squires wouldn't…but Sir Jason was older, and his intelligence had fairly gleamed in his clear blue eyes.

Yet he'd given his solemn oath that he'd keep her secret, and she hoped he wouldn't break his word, even if she hadn't been completely honest with him.

As she combed her thick hair, she wondered what Lucas would have done if he'd been in Sir Jason's place.

Of course he'd have been just as chivalrous, she told herself. Lucas was as handsome too . Sir Jason's voice seemed harsher — but so would most men's, compared toLucas' musical lilt. And Sir Jason's blonde hair had been shockingly long, all the way to his shoulders, like some sort of Viking's. His clothes had been plain, too.

_Yet Sir Jason Morgan looked at you with more respect and admiration than Lucas ever has._

Liz swiftly silenced that critical inner voice.

"What did Sir Lucas say when you told him I'd decided to retire early?" she asked, glancing at Chloe.

Chloe grinned, revealing the gap between her front teeth as she put the silk damask gown Liz had worn to the evening meal in the chest lined with cedar and closed the lid.

"He was worried you were ill, like the good man he is. I told him you were fine, just tired."

She gave Liz a wink. "I'm sure he won't want you exhausted on your wedding night."

Liz blushed and said nothing as she tried to get the comb through a knot in her hair.

Chloe set a stool behind her mistress and took the comb from her.

"Sit down, my lady, and let me do that before you pull your hair out by the roots."

Liz dutifully submitted, folding her hands in her lap.

"So what did you see in the village?" Chloe asked.

"There were jugglers who were very good," Liz replied. "I think they were Italian. There were tumblers, too, and a magician, but I couldn't see him very well. Has my father retired?"

"Aye, a while ago, after the minstrel finished a long song about two lovers that got turned into birds."

Liz wondered what Sir Jason was doing at the moment.

"There, that's better," Chloe said as she set down the comb beside the ewer. "Now get into a clean shift and into bed."

As Liz changed, Chloe sighed and said, "I'm so happy to think you'll be wed to such a fine man as Sir Lucas."

Liz didn't answer.

To be continued...

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	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews. This chapter is really short so sorry but I did it on the fly. So I will update again soon to make up for it.

Chapter 4

"Ah, here's my beautiful bride-to-be, and well rested, I trust?"

Sir Lucas said jovially as he joined Liz in the chapel for mass the next morning.

Although Liz returned her betrothed's smile, she realized she'd never really noticed how thin his lips were, or that fine clothes, bejeweled fingers and a smooth head of pale blond hair could be less impressive than a plain leather jerkin, woolen breeches, scuffed boots and long hair.

Without waiting for her answer, Lucas lifted her hand and placed it on his forearm, then covered it with his own.

"I wouldn't want you to fall ill, my love." He leaned close. "With only a se'ennight until we're wed."

Only a se'ennight.

Her beloved white-haired father appeared at the chapel door.

When he saw her, he hurried toward them as fast as he could these days.

"Ah, Elizabeth, my dear. And Lucas." He beamed at them both. "Not long now, eh?"

"Every second I must wait to claim my bride seems an eternity," Lucas said, squeezing Liz's hand and sliding her another smile.

What woman in her right mind wouldn't be thrilled to hear those words, or have such a man want to marry her? Liz thought, silently chiding herself as she had a thousand times last night while she lay sleepless in her bed. She'd been rightly pleased when Lucas had asked her to be his wife. Surely any little discontent she felt now would disappear once she was wed.

Then Sir Jason Morgan sauntered into the chapel.

Her heart seemed to stop beating, even as the rest of her body warmed. He was as plainly attired as before, yet he had no need for costly apparel to stand out among the other young noblemen. His air of calm self-assurance, as if he feared no man because he had absolutely no reason to, set him apart far more than his handsome face and powerful body.

He saw her, too, and came to such an abrupt halt, the nobleman following behind nearly walked into him.

As she quickly looked at her feet, she heard Sir Jason mutter, "I beg your pardon."

Holding her breath, she risked a glance in his direction — and wanted to sink right through the chapel floor or dissipate into the thin air like smoke, because Sir Jason was walking directly toward her.

Judging by his expression, there was no doubt that he recognized her.

Now he would discover that the woman who'd so brazenly kissed him was no village wench, but the noble bride whose wedding he'd come to attend.

_**To be continued...**_

_**Please Read & Review**_


	5. Chapter 5

Well guys I'm back! Sorry for taking so long to update but college isn't easy that's all I can say. I am also writing another Liason story. It is AU and called Embraced Destiny. Hope you guys read it. Now on to the story

Chapter 5

"Greetings, my lord," Sir Jason Morgan said to Lord Webber. "Forgive me for interrupting, but I haven't yet had the pleasure of being introduced to this lovely young lady."

As her smiling father turned toward her, Liz tried not to blush or otherwise reveal that she'd met the knight before, and even shared a passionate kiss with him while she was under the guise of a peasant maid.

"Sir Jason Morgan of Wales, may I present my daughter, Lady Elizabeth, and her betrothed, Sir Lucas de Spencer."

"Ah, the happy couple." Sir Jason's voice betrayed nothing as he reached out and took Liz's hand in his. She stiffened when he bent to press a kiss lightly on the back of it, then snatched it away — but not before he raised his blue eyes and gave her a look that seemed to pierce her very heart and seek a truth she wasn't willing to share.

Yet when he straightened, he smiled with cool politeness, as if they had only just met. "Tales of your beauty haven't done you justice, my lady," he said before addressing her betrothed. "My felicitations, Sir Lucas. You are the most fortunate of men."

Lucas acknowledged the compliment with a haughty nod. Not pleased herself by his rudeness, Liz also saw a flash of annoyance in the Welshman's eyes, although his expression remained serene.

"Lord Webber, I wonder if I might have a word with you," Sir Jason said. "I have some cause to fear the field for the melee is going to be too muddy at one end."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course," her father agreed and together they walked a short distance away to continue their discussion.

"As if he's an authority," Lucas sneered. "Your father is an excellent host, my sweet, and I fear some men take advantage of that."

Liz regarded her betrothed with a raised brow. "How is Sir Jason taking advantage of my father?"

"By having the effrontery to come here at all. That Welshman's father was nothing but a shepherd before he achieved a knighthood. I don't approve of allowing anyone of such low birth to participate in tournaments and neither should your father. I suggest you have as little to do with Sir Jason Morgan as possible."

Angered by his implied criticism of her father, and the commanding tone of her betrothed's voice, Liz fixed him with a cool stare. "Is that an order, Lucas?"

Blind to her displeasure, he gave her a patronizing smile. "Of course not, my sweet. Merely a suggestion."

"Good, for you aren't yet my husband, or my master," she said before she swept away to join some other guests standing by the altar.

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	6. Chapter 6

I would have written more but I didn't get a lot of feedback back. So if I get more feedback I promise LONGER chapters!

Chapter 6

Two days later, Jason strolled through the village on his way from the smithy to the castle. His helmet required some minor repairs, and while the armorer at the castle could tend to it, he preferred to take his custom to a man who needed it more. He was also anxious to be out of the castle for a little while. Lady Elizabeth's bright, vivacious presence seemed to fairly pervade the place, and that was becoming unbearable.

The morning after their kiss, when he'd encountered her in the chapel, he'd wondered what she'd do, only to discover she did…nothing. She didn't ignore him, as he'd half expected she might, but she spoke to him as she would to any other guest. Unsure of what to say or do next, he'd come up with an excuse to get away from her. Unfortunately, he'd never had another opportunity to speak to her, for she'd deftly managed to avoid him ever since.

He wanted to know why she'd kissed him.

Maybe it was her idea of a jest. If so, he didn't find it amusing in the least.

Maybe it was the impulsive act of a woman about to wed — a last taste of freedom. He could understand that, especially when the groom was that haughty, arrogant Lucas.

What had prompted a woman like her to accept de Spencer? She was polite, kind and generous to all. He'd overheard her telling the garrison commander that he was to ensure that all the paupers had a chance to take some of the food left over from the castle meals, and the castle servants treated her with respect, and often affection.

To be sure, de Spencer was rich and from a powerful family with lots of influence at court, and not bad looking in a pale, washed out sort of way, but Lady Elizabeth seemed far too intelligent to be swayed by looks, and not the least bit greedy or ambitious —

A woman's panicked cry rent the silence.

Jason looked around. He was alone in a muddy lane and, to his frustration, couldn't tell where the cry had come from.

"Help!"

The woman was in the building on his left.

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